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Regicide
Heavy rainfall accompanied a looming darkness as a lone travel climbed the side of a steep mountain complex. His long black, drenched hair plastered against the soggy grey of his captain's haori, the man, feared as the , ignored the various puddles across his path, going as far as to even plunging his feet directly between them, finding little issue in muddying his bare feet. Carrying the blade of his weapon against his shoulder, he made use of it only to crush the large boulders that suddenly arrived before him, so that he would not have to stray far from his linear trail. However, as a bolt of lightning struck the earth behind him, leaving behind a tainted, masculine frame, his nodachi instinctively quivered with excitement, prompting Zaraki to cease all movement and roll his eyes backward as a greeting of the sorts for his admirer. "The hell do ya want?" he barked, tilting his head to observe the man behind him. Adorned within the traditional attire of a full-fledged Shinigami, made complete by the presence of an additional vanilla coat, his shaggy, jet-black hair spilled over his eyes as a result of the rain, though was not enough to conceal the entirety of his youthful charm. Zaraki recognized him as Izari Kenshiko, the recently appointed captain of the Fourth Division. "So it is true then," the young boy began, "you've abandoned your duties as a captain." Izari's eyes narrowed, emphasizing his cold, murderous intent. "May I ask why?" "It's none of yer friggin' business." With that, Zaraki once again faced forward and proceeded onwards with his journey; only, the instant he had stepped forward, Izari appeared before him as an obstacle in his path. Zaraki growled. "I don't have time for this shit." "What's this? Zaraki Kenpachi of all people is in no mood for a fight? I find that hard to believe." Drawing his Zanpakutō from its sheath, Izari presented the very first strike of the match, a sweeping slash from below that was immediately intercepted by Zaraki, forcing both figures backward some short distance as a result of the impact. "I once looked up to you," Izari continued. "Though, looking at you as you are now, I'm beginning to question my motive." He cradled the hilt of his katana in a single hand and vanished swiftly with a triumphant flash. Within the blink of an eye, he was at Zaraki's flank, issuing another subtle thrust of his blade that was reflexively answered by the Kenpachi. Pitted against one another, the two blades struggled to gain control, leading sparks of golden aura to fly every which way. Izari met the turbulent expression across Zaraki's face with a tapered gaze. "Whatever happened to that fighting spirit of yours? This is unbecoming of a man with your position!" He flickered out of sight again, leaving Zaraki to swing at nothing more than thin air. "I would have much rather appreciated a heated battle," his voice reappeared; it took Zaraki a moment to relocate his opponent. "But if you do not plan to fight back, then so be it." Zaraki's eyes widened as a blade pierced him through the stomach. Blood fountained outward from his mouth as his blurred vision caught ahold of the attacker before him at last. From behind Zaraki, Izari's Zanpakutō was illuminated by a red light, before a large beam plastered a gaping hole through the wound. Zaraki's head fell upon Izari's shoulder, his blood spilling over his haori like a cherry atop an ice-cream sundae. "Good riddance." Just when it all appeared to have been over, a familiar smirk returned to Zaraki's face. He tightened his hand around the wrist of Izari's sword arm, and raised his own blade high above his head. His pupil contracted, he swung down with immense force. "Shut up!" Rich, red blood tainted the skies as a cloud of dust dissipated slowly, revealing Izari's bloodied physique. He had been slashed across his chest, and a pool of blood sat beneath his feet. On the other side of the battlefield, Zaraki removed his eyepatch, seemingly unfazed by the wound Izari had inflicted upon him moments prior. A thunderous golden aura crackled around Zaraki's being, and his laugh boomed louder than even the rainfall. Izari grinned. "It would seem you have returned to your ways as a demon at long last." He ran his hand across his still seeping wound, before bringing it toward his mouth for a taste. "This will be fun."